


infrasight

by inexorableformation



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with no happy ending, Body Horror, Character Study, Gen, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexorableformation/pseuds/inexorableformation
Summary: They watch.
Kudos: 4





	infrasight

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! This is the first fic I'm posting and it's honestly not very indicative of what I usually write at least when the tone is concerned but I just wanted to go for it now!
> 
> In case you missed the tags: there is body horror in here (including stuff with eyes and bones), hurt with no comfort, and not a happy ending. its still a very short fic but I wanna make sure no one sees sth they dont wanna see!
> 
> thanks for checking it out! hope you have a great day!

She is a drop of blood in the deep blue sea. The sharks are around but they don't bite. They circle. They watch. Is it voyeurism if she has no form, if she shows no pain? The drop dilutes. In a minute the sea is clear.

Amélie Lacroix was known for her heart. Talon didn't take it but they slowed it until it barely worked. Its beat accompanied the rhythmic repetitions of her torture, its sound the screams they taped. For what? For the record. They clothe her in something that they like to see. They have her parrot the words they want to hear.

Widowmaker is born and the whole world watches her while her eyes see a crosshair. Many of them, all over her head and the mechanic visor that is part of her now, blinking and never letting her sleep. A fly's eyes, a spider's eyes. So many the mirror loses count.

Widowmaker coughs into her hands and there are petals, blood-red, there is fluid sticking to her fingers, there are pebbles she picked up as a child. She looks and looks and sees nothing with her thousand eyes. Her body is held together by webs and tar. She is fragile but that word speaks of glass and clean edges when she is flesh. If you turned her inside out her edges would be soft and squishy and pulp. She has peeled oranges before. Her skin tastes like salt.

The night has her. Widowmaker stands on rooftops and climbs with gaunt limbs and a jaw that unhinges, she tiptoes on heels and what she touches turns black. When she falls fourteen floors and hits concrete her head cracks wide open, her spine snaps so loud she can't hear her legs break. She makes no sound. A second later, she stands on limbs bent wrong and walks, unfazed. Tar drips where she landed, trails after her through the solemn streets. Her legs un-break. Her spine un-snaps. The fissure in her skull stays.

Talon sees her tear off the suit that is her second skin, scrub the blood off like she would coffee stains off a counter. She knows who watches and who doesn't but Widowmaker is made to not care who could be ally, is made to be looked at. Lacroix cries but she is as dead as her husband and they left a doll in her place that kills. No matter if she bows her head or doesn't they will like it. No matter if she fights or not they will love it. Widowmaker walks and even the million eyes on her scalp don't look away.

The tendrils that hold her together reach out in the night, to the outside and inside alike. The abyss is what she makes of it- what they tell her to make of it. Talon is many people and it is only one that matters, the one that gets the honor to send her on her way. No name, just a whisper. Widowmaker crawls through the night and corrupts.

Her lips are sweet and they don't touch her after the brainwashing. The needles do, the pliers, but never skin. They use gloves because the tar is infectious and if they aren't careful they will feel eyes pop out of their foreheads as well, will feel the chitin cover their head. Widowmaker vomits and pries out her fingernails. Widowmaker bleeds blue and feels pressure in her skull. If she hit her head against the wall hard enough would it go away? She isn't ordered to. She doesn't try.

Widowmaker falls, breaks like a puppet. The bones stick out of her two skins. A crack. A snap. She walks.

The night has come and the land is dark.

Talon sees her, anyway.


End file.
